


Coping Methods

by buttmaster



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: M/M, Office Sex, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-05-27 11:11:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6282337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttmaster/pseuds/buttmaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chrom has a lot on his plate. Frederick helps him deal with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coping Methods

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sarai377](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarai377/gifts).



The SLE Corporation was a wreck. An absolute wreck. The death of company president Emmeryn Ylisse sent the company into a freefall, with stock plummeting at dangerous rates and employees on all levels diving for employment elsewhere.

It didn't help that the conspiracy theorists in the business world were insisting her death was unnatural, no accident… and that their major competitor, Plegia Group, was behind it. Chief Executive Gangrel was loving the attention, to be honest.

Then came the scrambling for a replacement. As if anyone could replace Emmeryn, and the shouts from all the economic pundits of nepotism when her younger brother, Chrom Ylisse of SLE’s child company, Exalt International, was put in the head spot.

Internally, of course, everyone was more than fine with it, Chrom being beloved in the company and honestly the golden child of the Ylisse family line. And with almost militaristic support from Felia-Regna-Ferox, prices were finally stabilizing.

Chrom himself, though, well, he was trying his hardest to not be a wreck as well. He'd barely had a chance to mourn, but his family and his company were more important. Twice-weekly lunches with Lissa helped. And of course… there was Frederick.

Frederick Ritter. Who came up from Exalt with Chrom and whose title was currently very much nebulous. Suffice to say he was Chrom’s right hand. And his left. And probably part of a leg, truth be told. He was a walking day planner, calendar, and messaging service. He personally ran every training seminar and morale meeting. He even controlled the coffee budget.

And he was walking through the door with a stack of documents balanced on top of a tablet. “Sir, the quarterly projections are in for you to look over.” He paused midstep and quickly rebalanced the stack. He stopped because he saw Chrom, head in his hands, looking down at the desk. Clearly distraught. “Sir.”

Chrom looked up, eyes slightly red. He gave a small shudder and sat to straight, clearing his throat. “Yes. Frederick. What was that? Sorry. I was…” Chrom grasped for an excuse and failed.

“Quarterly projections. You need to look over them, and I have a document you need to sign off on.” Frederick scowled slightly as it became evident that Chrom was still not fully present. He set the stack down and then turned around, closing the door. “Sir… if I may be so bold…”

Chrom again looked at Frederick, having begun to slouch anew. “Yes, Frederick. I'll get to the forms. They aren't that time sensitive, are they?” There was a tinge of annoyance in his voice and tension in his hands.

Frederick took a breath. He was not given permission to be bold. But he knew Chrom, and he knew something was troubling him… and he was almost certain he knew what it was. “You're thinking about her again, aren't you, Sir? Emmeryn.”

The tension Chrom held multiplied and spread throughout his body. His hands balled into fists and he had to take a breath. “I don't see what that has to do with--”

“You're distracted. You aren't focusing on work. The morning meeting with the FRF partners was a disaster. If Flavia hadn't been there, Sir…” Frederick trailed off. Chrom didn't need his mistake rubbed in his face.

He huffed, standing up from his executive chair and starting to pace. “I know. I know, Frederick! I know…” His edge softened but he still paced. “I zoned out, and it was rude, and I owe Flavia hugely now. And probably Basilio, too. No way is he not running interference on Plegia.” He hiccupped at the very name and he felt his eyes start to water.

“You miss her, Sir. You miss her and you haven't had time--”

“To mourn? To grieve? To do anything! I'm not her. Nobody is. Nobody can be. But now here I am, expecting to lead. Expecting to guide the flock through… through a… well, honestly, it's a war zone now. Plegia got a taste for blood and now I don't even get one second to relax.” His pacing led him to the wall and he pressed his forehead against it. His breathing was heavy.

Frederick moved behind him and placed his hands on Chrom’s shoulders, starting with a pat before his fingers gripped and moved, massaging and rubbing in equal hopes of lessening some of the tension and giving Chrom some clearly needed physical contact.

“Frederick.” Chrom glanced back over his shoulder. He felt small and surprisingly vulnerable. He always forgot Frederick was taller than he was. And at least five years his senior. It had to be the usual power dynamic. Chrom was the boss, and thus had to feel large. But in this moment, everything was all jumbled.

“Sir. Just let me do this for you.” Frederick whispered in his ear, barely an inch from it, his fingers working his shoulders as Chrom shrugged his suit jacket off. Frederick helped guide it down and freed his arms from the sleeves.

Chrom’s breath hitched in his throat and it almost came out as a sob. Frederick frowned, caught between this being obviously cathartic and being alarmed at Chrom’s emotional shakiness. He needed to comfort his friend. But he also needed his boss to be the boss. “Sir?”

“Hmm?” Chrom cleared his throat again.

“What can I do… for you?” He slipped a hand around to loosen Chrom’s tie a little. “Can I… help you at all?”

Chrom tensed at the words. And stiffened at the tone. This was familiar territory going back years. All the way back before this company. Before his last. Back to college. Frederick an employee in his sister’s company who was basically his personal assistant whenever he visited. Frederick clearly had a crush on him for a long time, but it took Chrom much longer to notice…

He took Frederick’s hand in his and guided it down to the zipper of his slacks. Frederick wasted no time. “Yes, sir, of course. Might I suggest we go back to your desk?”

Chrom smirked and took a step away from Frederick, then pointed at the wall. “On your knees, Frederick. Facing me. Back to the wall.” Frederick complied, and Chrom moved in front of him again, where he finished unzipping those slacks.

It didn't take much fishing for Frederick to pull Chrom’s cock free, already mostly hard. He gripped the shaft, by the base, and began pumping him to full erection.

Chrom responded with something between a grunt and a moan, and he ran his fingers through Frederick’s hair. “Mmm. That's good. But…”

Frederick looked up at his liege, his boss. “But? Am I not doing a satisfactory job, Sir?”

“Satisfactory, Frederick. But. Maybe don't use your hands.” Chrom removed his tie. “Turn around. Hands behind your back.”

Again, he complied, and Chrom quickly bound his wrists together. Without being told, Frederick turned back around. Chrom placed his hand on the back of his head and pulled him closer to his crotch.

Frederick gasped and nuzzled against that thick shaft before dragging his tongue along the underside. Frederick craved that taste, that feel, even his scent. He wrapped his lips around the tip and Chrom hissed out a breath, careful not to make too much noise.

He gripped a handful of Frederick’s hair and gently held him as he rolled his hips, cock throbbing. “That's right. That's good.”

Frederick shuddered, eyes closing, and sucked firmer, tongue swirling, covering every inch he could. Chrom moaned softly. “Just like that, Frederick. I'm so close…”

He knew Chrom was close. He knew it well, and worked against the hand holding his hair to bob his head the best he could. That thick cock bobbed in his mouth. And with a few more firm bobs…

Chrom bit his lip and tried hard to hold back a moan as thick spurts of warm seed hit Frederick’s tongue and the back of his throat. Chrom spoke through gritted teeth. “Every drop.”

And Frederick took it all, every drop of seed, sucking him dry before pulling back, looking up at Chrom for approval.

“Very good work.” Chrom zipped his slacks and grabbed his jacket. He'd missed that Frederick had hung it neatly on his chair. “Turn around.” And Chrom grabbed his tie, freeing Frederick’s hands. “Now, up.”

“Yes, of course, Sir.” He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.

“So… there were papers for me to look at?”


End file.
